


other side of the window (you had the pedal and I had the wheel)

by villiageidiot



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Alec Lightwood Deserves Nice Things, Alec Lightwood Loves Magnus Bane, Boys In Love, But like he still has his magic, Mortal Magnus Bane, Potions, Seelie Magic, Spells & Enchantments
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-08
Updated: 2020-06-08
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:53:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24614086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/villiageidiot/pseuds/villiageidiot
Summary: “You’ll regret it,” Alec says before he can catch the words. He still can’t look at Magnus.Magnus is quiet. “How can you think I’ll regret choosing you?”Alec doesn’t answer.Didn’t you regret it last time?, he thinks.“Please try to be happy for me,” Magnus says softly. “For us.”And the thing is, Alec wants to be. He wants to bask in this, but he was selfish once before, blinded by it even, and he’s promised himself he’d never do that again.(OR:Magnus becomes mortal.)
Relationships: Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood
Comments: 36
Kudos: 173





	other side of the window (you had the pedal and I had the wheel)

1\. Not quite how the story ends:

*

The day after Magnus leaves the hospital, the first day after finally sharing a bed again, Alec is awake before him, staring at the ceiling. Now that they’re home, he’s finally able to think, able to really absorb what just happened. He barely slept the entire night and Magnus has been out for hours, understandably. 

When Magnus opens his eyes, he looks over to see Alec watching him. He seems immediately apologetic. “I’m sorry,” he says, still sounding half-asleep. Magnus can tell, Alec thinks; he can tell that it’s time to really, legitimately discuss what Magnus just did, the choice he made.

Alec can’t think of anything to say, despite being alone with his thoughts for hours now, so he stays silent.

“It was foolish,” Magnus continues.

Alec looks back towards the ceiling. “Foolish,” he echoes dully. Because how is he supposed to process that? This might actually be permanent. What if it can’t be fixed? What’s the _point_ of Alec if he can’t fix it? 

“What if it can’t be undone?” he asks finally. “Is there another spell for that?”

“Undone?” Magnus asks, confused. Realization settles in and he says, “I’m not apologizing for the choice. I’m apologizing because I didn’t talk to you.”

It’s a relief to hear and Alec’s grateful. He’s been waiting for Manus to acknowledge the fact that he left Alec completely in the dark for – he doesn’t even know for how long. Weeks, months, a year?

“You’ll regret it,” Alec says before he can catch the words. He still can’t look at Magnus.

Magnus is quiet. “How can you think I’ll regret choosing you?”

Alec doesn’t answer. _Didn’t you regret it last time?_ , he thinks.

“Please try to be happy for me,” Magnus says softly. “For us.”

And the thing is, Alec _wants_ to be. He wants to bask in this, but he was selfish once before, blinded by it even, and he’s promised himself he’d never do that again.

Magnus is quiet again, which is what finally pushes Alec to meet his eyes. And what he sees there – it’s almost desperation, and Alec cracks. He’s useless at saying no to Magnus, always has been, and it doesn’t look like today will be any different.

Alec tries so hard to focus on the severity of what just happened, to be worried for Magnus instead of happy for himself, but he has to really fight for it.

“Magnus,” he says softly, but he’s not sure what else he wants to say. Mostly, he just wants to lie together in bed and ignore the rest of the world, to pretend that this isn’t happening. The guilt is starting to set in, and he just doesn’t want to face it. He knows why Magnus did what he did; he’s not naïve enough to think it wasn’t all about Alec, for Alec, _because_ of Alec.

Ignoring, pretending, running away, though – Alec barely remembers the person he was when he was able to do those things. 

“Coffee?” Magnus asks, because he always know how to shift – but never break – the mood.

“I don’t want to get up,” he answers. “I just want to stay here for a while.” Alec’s not pretending or running; he just needs to _pause_. Time is running faster than Alec can process it.

“Who said anything about getting up?” Magnus replies, moving to sit against the headboard. 

“Magnus,” he tries to protest, but before he can, there are two cups of coffee on the nightstand.

Alec bolts upright. “What – I thought –”

Magnus looks at him quizzically. “Thought what?”

“Your magic,” Alec says, feeling like he’s three steps behind. And then he suddenly remembers Catarina’s words: _It separates his magic from his immortality_.

Time is no longer running at double-time. It’s stopped.

Magnus apparently figures it out as Alec does because he says, “I didn’t give up my _magic_ , Alexander.”

“Wait,” Alec says again. He just needs a moment to think. Because –

This changes things. It shouldn’t, Alec knows that, but it still does. What Magnus did, it’s still insane, and Alec will feel guilty about it until Magnus can’t stand it anymore. He struggles to fight the smile and the unhelpful happiness trying to seep in. He can’t think about anything but the stream of _grow old together, grow old together_ playing in a constant loop.

“How –”

“I’m nothing without my magic,” Magnus whispers, looking down. “As much as I love you, I don’t know who I am without it. I don’t think I could – it’s part of me, Alexander, and I could never be _me_ without it.”

“Hey,” Alec says, tipping Magnus’ face so he can meet his eyes. “You never have to justify that to me. I hope you know that.”

But Magnus doesn’t seem to be listening because maybe he’s not saying the words to Alec. “My immortality, though, it’s different. It’s part of me but it’s not who I am. It doesn’t define me.”

“Okay,” he replies, not sure if Magnus is explaining it to Alec or just to himself.

“Choosing between you and my immortality,” Magnus continues, “How could I _not_ choose you?”

There’s a charged silence that lingers for several moments. 

And then they’re both smiling and Alec can’t help the flood of _everything_ : stillness, anticipation, relief, exhilaration, fear, contentment, unity, love. There’s too much for him to distinguish any one thing.

But he refuses to think of _what comes now_. If he wants to push back the flood, he has to focus _what just happened._

*

2\. What just happened:

*

He’s not sure what prompts it, but Alec decides to make a quick detour before heading back to the institute. Sometimes he gets nostalgic for those days, being young and in love in New York. (Now he’s young and in love in Alicante, very different.)

He scans the locks hanging on the heart sign, but can’t seem to find theirs. Maybe the lock wasn’t as distinct as he thought, or maybe they didn’t place it where he remembers, but a quick glance over the remaining signs doesn’t bring up anything either. It’s a little disappointing, sure, but they don’t need a tangible symbol of their love; he’s got a metal band on his left hand that works just fine.

Alec brings it up once he’s back home and putting away some papers in his briefcase. “So our lock isn’t hanging on that “LOVE” sign anymore,” he says. “I heard the city clears them sometimes but it still looked pretty full.”

Magnus pauses for the briefest of moments while he pours Alec a drink. “Oh?”

Alec watches him and tries to keep his face neutral because Magnus doesn’t seem surprised. “But apparently you knew that.”

“It was after you –” Magnus starts after a long moment, before pausing to carefully choose his words. “After the deal was made with Asmodeus, I made some regrettable decisions.”

Alec blinks. “You removed it.” It’s not a question, just a realization.

A realization that _stings_.

“Alexander,” Magnus says softly, putting the glass back down on the drink cart.

“No, I get it,” Alec says. Because he does. It stings but he gets it. “I said some things.”

“Words you didn’t mean,” Magnus reminds him. “Selfless words.”

Alec nods. It’s just – he thought – well he’s not sure what he thought. Magnus has always been sure of them, before there even _was_ a “them.” But what did Alec expect? What if Magnus had said those things; wouldn’t Alec have doubted what they built, too?

Magnus takes a few steps forward until he’s close enough to put a gentle hand on Alec’s cheek. He doesn’t say anything, but he doesn’t have to. There’s an apology in his eyes, one that’s reflected in Alec’s own. Alec gives a small smile, a genuine one, because when he looks at Magnus, he can’t _not_.

Later that week, Magnus makes up a flimsy excuse to visit New York, something about Lorenzo that Alec sees through immediately, but he doesn’t care. He’s not surprised when Magnus steers them towards the sign, pulling out another lock already engraved with _To Us._ It’s ornate with a keyhole instead of a dial, clearly an antique, and Alec can’t help but wonder how old it is. For all he knows, Magnus may have owned this for centuries, and Alec can’t hide his pleased smile when he realizes Magnus is leaving behind something he’s owned for so long. They’re timeless.

Magnus hands him the lock and Alec can feel his eyes on him as he reaches to place it as high as he can on the “L,” high enough that it feels untouchable. Magnus gives him a knowing smile as he looks between Alec and the unreachable lock, and he doesn’t say anything.

“What?” Alec asks with a smile of his own, because he knows he’s transparent as hell. _Try and get that one down._

“Let’s go home,” is all Magnus says, an amused lilt to his voice.

Alec smiles at him some more, because how can he _not_ , and because Magnus has that look in his eyes, the look of _adoration_ that makes Alec’s stomach swoop a little, even after all these years. Alec’s too distracted, too absorbed in these feelings, to think about anything else. 

He doesn’t think about the significance of what this all means – that Magnus was so heartbroken he _destroyed their lock_. Magnus has kept mementos of his loved ones for centuries now but didn’t place this lock alongside them in his box. He erased it, like he couldn’t handle it even existing at all. It should have been a sign to Alec but he was just too in love to notice.

+

They’re babysitting Madzie when Alec subtly brings up parenthood again.

“So if we have a family, you know you’ll have to reconsider your policy about kissing your husband when kids are in the next room, right?” Because Alec is nothing if not subtle.

Magnus startles a bit, probably because they were just talking about duvets.

“Especially if they’re _asleep_ and behind closed doors,” Alec continues, raising an eyebrow.

He gives Alec an amused smile. “Yes, I suppose I will.”

Alec doesn’t say anything for a few seconds because he knows it’s time to finally ask. “So you do…” he says carefully. Neither of them says anything for a few moments.

“Want a family with you?” Magnus eventually fills in for him. “Of course, Alexander.”

Alec doesn’t try to hide his smile. They’ve been dancing around it for so long but neither of them just _asked._ Alec’s never pushed for an answer because it’s not like he wants to start a family tomorrow, but every time they’re with Madzie, well, it makes him realize he should probably get one.

He slides closer to Magnus on the couch, unable to help the smile still lingering on his face. “Out of curiosity, is it just kissing you’re reconsidering?” he asks, steering the conversation back to more immediately pressing concerns. “Or is anything else on the table?”

“She’s right _there_ ,” Magnus says by way of an answer, but she’s watching a video on her tablet and too engrossed to notice.

Alec turns back toward the TV to watch the rest of whichever Disney movie Madzie chose this time, but he’s losing focus. He was mostly kidding but now that he’s pressed up close to Magnus, well now he’s suddenly interested in what Magnus will reconsider. And how soon he’ll do it.

“She already looks older,” Magnus says quietly, almost to himself.

Alec glances over to watch her and he’s right. She’s a little taller and her long hair distinguishes the girl sitting on the floor watching viral videos from the little girl who flung him into an elevator.

He glances back over to Magnus, who’s still watching her, and for once, Alec can’t tell what he’s thinking. “Magnus?” he asks, because he’s not going to sit here wondering.

Magnus doesn’t answer for a moment. “I can’t imagine what’s worse than outliving a child,” he answers finally.

It feels like a non-sequitur but it’s probably not, and Alec’s heart stutters for a moment. “So you don’t –” he starts, but he can’t bring himself to finish the thought. Alec thought he _finally_ –

“You’ll be an excellent father, Alexander,” Magnus says immediately, obviously following Alec’s train of thought. “Though I suspect I’ll have to assume the duties of disciplinarian. We can’t both be pushovers.”

Alec raises his eyebrows. “Me. I’ll be the pushover,” he says, incredulous. “I hope you’re joking.”

Magnus is teasing, though, and Alec is _useless_ at not being charmed by it. He leans over to give him a kiss, and Magnus doesn’t dodge away.

“Oh, so you _have_ reconsidered,” Alec murmurs. 

“Alec,” Magnus says warningly.

Alec sits back to watch the movie and tries to pretend that he’s not waiting for Madzie’s bedtime, waiting to see how much Magnus has reconsidered.

His thoughts wander to what Magnus said, though. Not for the first time, Alec remembers that he has certain luxuries that Magnus doesn’t, that there are things Magnus has to worry about that Alec never even considered. If they adopt a mortal child, Alec won’t ever have to watch his son age and die while Magnus stays the same, grieving and helpless. If they adopt an immortal child, Alec won’t ever have to worry about what his daughter will feel someday as she watches Magnus mourn Alec for centuries, feeling like she’s a painful reminder of the first man Magnus shared a marriage and a family with.

Alec doesn’t know how Magnus doesn’t struggle under the weight of it all.

Magnus shifts on the couch to press closer to Alec’s side. Alec sinks into him and, like he’s done a few times before, thinks about what immortality would mean for him. It’s moments like these that make Alec think, _I could spend centuries with him, just like this_. But then he remembers, just like every other time he’s headed down this path, that it’s not just about Magnus. Family is everything to Alec and the idea of watching Izzy and Max grow old and die without him, the idea of _feeling_ Jace age and die, taking half of Alec’s soul with him – it’s unbearable.

So instead, he lives for moments like these. 

He watches Magnus glance to a distracted Madzie before leaning over to a give Alec a decidedly less-chaste kiss. Alec’s eyes widen slightly and he whispers, “Okay, so _definitely_ reconsidered then.”

Magnus stands to head towards the kitchen, likely to grab some popcorn for Madzie, and the look he gives Alec is definitely meant to provoke him. Alec’s already working out arguments for later: _we’ll be quiet, let’s put her upstairs, we can lock the door, we’ll wait until she’s asleep, it’ll be a test run for when we start a family._

He doesn’t think about what the entire conversation means, how incongruous the sentiments. Magnus wants a family with him; Alec finally has his answer. But Magnus also has critical concerns Alec never will, and he obviously can’t have both. It should be sign for Alec, but he’s too distracted to notice it. 

+

They’re at Hunter’s Moon for Simon’s birthday or book release or possibly both or maybe neither, and Alec spends half the night acting oblivious to Magnus’ blatant attempt of toying with him. Alec doesn’t want to be here, neither of them do, but Izzy’s been guilting him about how long it’s been since he’s been back to visit.

(Alec had promised him, _it’ll be an hour, just one hour_ , because Magnus has been in Estonia for three days, and the last thing either of them wanted to do was leave the apartment. Magnus had laughed at his promise, actually _laughed_ , and said, _oh you won’t make it an hour, Alexander._ )

So in an attempt to prove his point, Magnus spends the night provoking him. 

After twenty minutes, Alec slides next to Jace at the bar and takes a sip of his lukewarm, mostly-empty beer.

“Hey,” Jace says, then immediately follows Alec’s quick glance toward Magnus, who’s talking to some Shadowhunter that Alec doesn’t recognize. “Jealous?” he asks, sounds doubtful.

Alec looks back to Jace. “Just not taking the bait,” he answers, half-shrugging.

Jace looks confused. “He’s baiting you by talking to what’s-his-name?” 

“By doing – that,” he clarifies, vaguely gesturing in Magnus’ direction.

“Standing?” Jace asks, eyebrows raised.

“Watching,” Alec answers.

Jace shakes his head. “Well don’t let me stop you.”

“How’s Clary? How’s her memory?” Alec asks, changing the subject, because his willpower is not as non-existent as everyone seems to thinks it is.

Jace lights up and Alec would tease him but… pot, kettle. He starts to recap everything Alec has missed while he’s been in Alicante and Alec is interested, he genuinely truly is, but he’s also becoming more and more aware of Magnus’ gaze. He’s now watching Alec while he stands against a pole alone in the corner, stirring his drink, and Alec can clearly picture _that_ smile without even turning around to see it.

“Come on, man, just go; this is painful to watch,” he hears Jace say.

“What? I’m listening.”

“You’re really not,” Jace tells him. “Or did you forget that I can literally feel how strung-out you are?”

They watch each other for a moment before Jace claps him on the shoulder. “I’ll catch up with you later,” he says.

Alec stands there for a moment, alone with an empty beer in his hand, then heads towards Magnus, now talking to a warlock who looks vaguely familiar but whose name Alec would never remember. Alec’s ready to say, _fine we can go, you win, because I can’t focus when you’re staring at me like that,_ but changes his mind at the last minute. Magnus has been waiting for him to crack, and Alec remembers that he’s not the only one that’s been ready to leave since the moment they got here. So instead, he gives Magnus a small, casual nod when he passes, heading for the back door. Because Alec can be patient and play this game, too.

The air is cool when he steps outside and there are a few young girls lingering by the door, all eying him warily. He heads further down the alley, waiting, and sure enough, he hears the door open and close a few moments later.

“Hello, handsome,” he hears from behind him.

Alec turns to face Magnus and gives him a knowing smile. “Hi yourself.”

“Needed some fresh air?” Magnus asks, tone light, _not at all_ subtle. 

“Something like that,” Alec says, feigning casualness, convincing enough that most people would buy it. But he knows Magnus sees right through it. Probably because he’s staring at Magnus’ mouth.

Suddenly he’s hit with a wave of familiarity, and the game is forgotten. He’s been here before. The two of them have been right here standing just like this, though under entirely different circumstances. The déjà vu is so sudden and so vivid that Alec almost feels like he’s right back in the middle of that conversation.

“I was terrified that night,” he remembers, not meaning to say the words aloud.

And he _was_ ; he was so goddamn terrified that night. Magnus had been his first everything: first kiss, first boyfriend, first love, first time, and that was his first – (not breakup, he won’t call it a breakup, never has) – heartache. He had no idea what to do, what to say, what happened next; he just knew he wasn’t going down without a fight. Because losing the people he cares about, that’s not something Alec knows how to handle. He can fight demons and stand up to the Clave, but losing Magnus in _any_ capacity, it was terrifying and intimidating and he didn’t know how to deal with it except to fight.

“I didn’t have anything prepared,” he says, still partially to himself. “I should have thought of something to say but I just – I couldn’t focus.”

Magnus offers him a small smile, not sad exactly but not the overtly suggestive one from just minutes ago. “You said everything perfectly, if memory serves.”

Alec can’t help but to smile back. “I think it ended well.”

Magnus’ expression is suddenly unreadable, and Alec realizes he’s now seen that look a few times recently but still can’t decipher it. “I can’t live without you, either,” Magnus admits, obviously remembering that conversation as clearly as Alec does.

It’s not true, Alec knows. Magnus can live without him – he has and he’ll have to again – but he still appreciates the sentiment. And maybe it is true in a sense, just in a different way. 

Magnus is still smiling, though, and it’s not sad or bittersweet; it’s relaxed and content, like maybe he’s in on a joke that Alec doesn’t get. Before he can ask, Magnus’ smile shifts right back into that flirty smile that he _knows_ Alec can’t handle.

“Admittedly, I didn’t come out for the air,” Magnus says quietly, taking a few steps closer.

“No?” Alec replies, voice low. God he hopes he never stops feeling this way, hopes Magnus never stops looking at him like that.

Magnus watches him, waiting, and Alec caves because of course he does. He closes the gap between them, self-restraint totally shot, and pushes Magnus up against the graffitied wall. Magnus goes willingly and Alec vaguely registers the girls by the door heading back inside, probably feeling awkward standing a few feet away from two grown adults making out like goddamn teenagers.

Alec doesn’t fully comprehend the significance of Magnus’ words, especially because he knows Magnus always chooses his words carefully, and _I can’t live without you_ means something very important, very _real_ and very different, to Magnus. It should be a sign to Alec, but he’s too busy stumbling through a portal to notice.

+

He’s watching Magnus make dinner on a Friday night, mostly paying attention but partially just listening to the comforting lilt and cadence of his voice. It’s not until he hears Lorenzo’s name and a pause that Alec realizes he was maybe listening more than paying attention because Magnus is looking at him expectantly.

“I understand if you’d prefer not to go,” Magnus continues eventually, obviously reading Alec’s silence as hesitation instead of complete distraction. “But you won’t be the only Shadowhunter in attendance.”

“Right,” Alec says, picking up a thread of the conversation. “Underhill?”

“Andrew,” Magnus says pointedly, “will, apparently, be housebound until his toes have fully healed.”

Oh, right, Alec remembers vaguely. Something on a mission that even an iratze rune couldn’t heal. But he mostly ignores Magnus’ clarification because, despite Underhill’s ever-increasing presence in Alec’s life, he’s still just… Underhill. Blending home and work isn’t something Alec has fully mastered yet.

Plus, Alec would rather stick by Magnus’ side and listen to his running commentary or a story about something that happened three centuries ago involving the warlock in the corner and a bottle of – 

“Is it the palak paneer that’s amusing, Alexander?” Magnus asks, and Alec realizes he’s been caught reminiscing with a fond smile on his face. Magnus narrows his eyes briefly. “Or is this you mocking me for – the incident?”

And that boosts Alec’s smile about a hundred percent. “Incident,” he says, feigning innocence. “Which _incident_ would that be?”

Magnus doesn’t respond, focusing on the rice instead.

“Oh, that time you got jealous. Is that the _incident_?”

He still doesn’t look at Alec. “I’m glad you still find it amusing.”

“You don’t?” he says, because yes, he still finds it amusing. Maybe he always will. Because _come on_.

“I don’t, no,” Magnus says simply. “It was a brief lapse of judgment.”

“Oh _come on_ ,” Alec argues. “It’s only funny because it’s crazy. You wouldn’t find it funny if I got jealous over – I don’t know. Dorthea?”

Magnus pauses and thinks it over. “I suppose I can see the logic in that.”

“Good,” Alec says. “Because it’s totally normal and happens to everybody.”

“Not to me,” Magnus counters. “And I appreciate how sympathetic you’ve been while I adjust to it.”

Alec picks up on the sarcasm and realizes that maybe Magnus is more sensitive about it than he thought.

“I’m sorry,” he says, voice gentle. “But the idea of you having something to be jealous about, it’s funny. And no one’s even been jealous over me before, so I guess I couldn’t help it.”

“That can’t possibly be true,” Magnus says, irritation gone.

“It definitely is,” he argues. “I grew up with Jace and Izzy.” Izzy was the one everyone talked about; Jace was the one everyone looked at. He’s not bitter about it, doesn’t try to push it down, but when he sees the sympathy in Magnus’ eyes, he adds, “It’s fine. I don’t care about that. Not when I have someone that looks at me the way you do.”

He gives Magnus a teasing smile but Magnus’ face is suddenly serious, and Alec’s smile fades at the abrupt change.

“I’ve never looked at anyone the way I look at you,” Magnus says softly, and there’s nothing teasing in his voice at all.

“Now _that_ can’t possibly be true,” Alec replies lightly. He’s not naive enough to think Magnus, in eight hundred years, has never looked at anyone with the looks he offers freely to Alec.

“Ask Catarina if you don’t believe me.” His tone is casual but the look on his face betrays him.

Alec stands up and joins him in the kitchen. “You okay?” he asks, reaching down to tilt Magnus’ face up, forcing him to meet Alec’s eyes.

“Of course,” Magnus replies, face softening. And maybe that’s all he needed, Alec thinks. Sometimes proximity soothes Alec, too. “I have you, Indian food, and a quiet evening on the couch next to the man I love. What else could I want?”

Alec smiles and pushes forward to corner Magnus between his arms and the counter. “Dessert, maybe?” _Subtle_ , he thinks.

“Naturally,” Magnus answers. He allows himself to be cornered for a few moments before giving Alec a chaste kiss and nudging him back. “But first dinner, because I know you forget to eat at work.”

Alec follows and watches him use his magic to set the table and grab their drinks, and the thing is, he really does look okay. Sure, there are times when Alec asks him if he’s okay and Magnus tries to brush him off, but this isn’t one of those times. He doesn’t look like he’s hiding anything; in fact, he almost looks… content. Alec wonders if he’s missing something.

Magnus’ words should trigger something in Alec. His confessions of _never_ invoke casual skepticism from Alec, but he should know better. It should be a sign, but Alec is too relaxed to notice.

+

He’s about a half hour away from finally packing up for the night when Magnus walks into his office. Alec’s face lights up because he hasn’t been home in over twelve hours, and he needed this brief reprieve. 

“Looks like a long day,” he says, returning Alec’s smile with a sympathetic one.

“It feels like a long day,” Alec replies. “But I’ll be done in a few minutes if you want to wait?” He feels guilty for asking Magnus to stay and sit there while he finishes working, but Magnus’ presence always puts him at ease and, well sometimes he’s allowed to be selfish.

Magnus doesn’t say anything, just smiles and sits on one of the chairs, because of course he does. He’s Magnus and he acts like spending time with Alec is the best part of his day.

Alec glances down to the files on his desk and sighs, too mentally exhausted to focus. Investigating law-breaking and determining repercussions – Alec was born to be the Inquisitor. Gray areas like this, though, sometimes he still struggles to balance right and wrong versus acceptable and unacceptable.

“Everything okay?” Magnus asks.

Becoming the Inquisitor always felt like an unattainable dream, and the irony of how he got here isn’t lost on him. Years ago, he knew choosing Magnus meant a fractured family and a ruined career, but – it didn’t. Instead, the choice to love a man, to love a _Downworlder_ , gave him his career, his family, and his future. 

Alec looks back up and meets his eyes. What he sees is concern; what he _feels_ is support. Not for the first time, he remembers he’s not alone; he can rely on his Downworlder husband to see things in a way he can’t on his own, a Downworlder that’s seen eight hundred years’ worth of gray areas.

“The world seems to get darker each year. Do you – does it just feel that way to me or have you noticed that throughout the centuries?”

“There are always ebbs and flows,” Magnus answers after a pause. Alec supposes that’s an answer, though not the one he wanted. “Did something in particular happen?”

Alec shrugs. “A group of high-schoolers tried to bring a friend back from the dead.”

Magnus frowns. “Well high-school certainly has changed.”

“You’ve got mundane teenagers talking about some kind of cardboard game that speaks to the dead, Shadowhunters explaining the Forsaken, and Downworlders reckless enough to come up with a plan. Put them all together – and no one has been more supportive of unity than I have, you know that – but put them together and suddenly you have six kids putting themselves in real danger in the middle of a graveyard.”

“Are they all okay?” Magnus asks.

He nods. “Yeah, but now what? They don’t get the gravity of what they tried to do. They’re just kids.”

“Oh?” Magnus asks, arching an eyebrow. “I seem to remember a conversation between you and your very- _adult_ friends discussing the merits of the resurrection of a loved one.”

It takes Alec a moment to figure out what he’s referencing, and he finally flashes back to that moment years ago, that heart-stopping moment when Clary confessed to bringing the love of her life back from the dead. And that heart-stopping moment right afterwards when Alec realized he would have done the same thing.

Looking back, he wonders when that gradual shift was complete, when he officially changed from the rule-abiding, tunnel-vision Shadowhunter who was desperate to avoid emotion and attachment, into the man he is now, a Shadowhunter who would actually ask an angel to bring back the man he loved _from the dead_. It’s sort of surreal. This warlock in front of him is completely to blame, but Alec couldn’t be more grateful.

Magnus is looking at him curiously, and Alec is brought back to reality.

“We weren’t discussing its merits, Magnus,” he says finally, trying to not roll his eyes. “And that’s not the same thing at all.”

Magnus doesn’t respond because they both know it isn’t the same. There’s a difference between a group of irresponsible teenagers purposefully performing a dangerous ritual to raise a friend from the dead, and a typically-rational adult making a panicked decision when the love of his life is lying lifeless in his arms.

(If he’s being honest with himself, though, Alec knows he’d purposefully perform any goddamn ritual he could find if Magnus’ life was on the line.)

“It bothers you,” Alec realizes, paperwork and irresponsible teenagers long forgotten. “That I would have asked – that I would have tried anything to bring you back.”

“No,” Magnus says, and Alec is relieved that it sounds genuine, honest. “I try not to pass judgment, Alexander. We can’t fault emotional people for the emotional decisions they make.”

“I’m not emotional,” Alec points out, “and I’m telling you I would have done the same thing.”

But Magnus still doesn’t look surprised or disappointed in him. “I know,” he admits, no accusation in his voice. He gives Alec the unreadable look that Alec still hasn’t been able to figure out yet. “But I would ask that you put some thought into a life-altering decision like that.”

Alec gives him a lopsided smile. “No promises. I can’t always help the things you make me want to do.” He finally stands and moves to sit next to Magnus, because this is not a conversation he wants to have leaning over his desk, not anymore. “There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you,” he says, voice low, turning the chair and sitting to face Magnus.

Magnus watches him carefully for a minute. “Oh, Alexander,” he says quietly. “Do you think you’re the only one of us that would sacrifice anything for the one he loves?”

Alec is taken aback for a moment at the look in Magnus’ eyes, the look that makes Alec feel truly _seen_. “Of course not,” he replies. “I know you’ve –”

But apparently Magnus isn’t done yet. “You’re the most important thing to me. When I lost my magic, I wanted to spend every moment with you. Whatever the rest of my life became, I wanted it to be with you.” Alec swallows because Magnus’ tone becomes sharp, insistent. “Don’t underestimate the choices I would make for you, Alec.”

That look in Magnus’ eyes, his tone, _those words_ , the entire conversation should be a sign, and maybe it is a little, but Alec is too busy replaying the intensity of Magnus’ admission to understand it.

+

It’s a conversation that Alec never planned to start, because what’s the point, but he’s still surprised at how long it took for someone else to bring up. Ultimately, it’s Simon, because who else could it be.

He likes Simon, more or less, but Simon talks more than any single person ever should, so it’s only a matter of time that he says something. Alec assumed that he’d eventually run out of things to say, but today is not that day.

“The last time I sired someone, she turned out to be a psychotic serial killer,” Simon tells everyone at the table. “Or wait, what’s it called when you orchestrate the serial killing but don’t actually _commit_ the serial killing? You know, like Charles Manson?” He’s been rambling for at least five minutes, and Alec’s actually starting to get a headache, as cliché as that sounds. 

But those words make Alec sit up straighter and prompt a look that he hopes says, _Stop talking; I know where you live_.

“See?” Simon continues, looking to Alec but oblivious to the warnings in Alec’s eyes. Maybe he radiates annoyance so much around Simon that Simon’s no longer able to discern Alec’s mild indifference from his genuine irritation. “I did you a favor, Alec. You could be like, _eating_ people at this very moment if you went through with it.”

The table is quiet for a minute, not because they’re trying to come up with an explanation like Alec is, but because talk of cannibalism over a bowl of spaghetti doesn’t help an appetite.

Magnus doesn’t address it, just asks Alec’s mom about the store and talks to Luke about… something. Alec’s pretty distracted for the rest of the evening, but no one comments on it because not contributing to a conversation isn’t all that out-of-character for him, thankfully.

Magnus doesn’t ask about it when they leave his mom’s house, or after they’re outside, or even during the walk around the city. Magnus wants to stay and watch the fireworks, so they find a bench along the parade route, and that’s when he finally says something.

“Was I missing something?” he asks Alec. “An inside joke?”

Alec meets his eyes because he doesn’t want Magnus to think he’s ashamed of what he asked Simon to do. If he had to, he would do it all over again.

“When you were in Edom,” he starts, “we were running out of options. Shadowhunters can’t survive there and we couldn’t let you face Lilith alone.”

He doesn’t mean to stop there because it’s easy for him to explain and defend himself, but Magnus has already figured out the end of the story.

“Alexander,” he says. “I – ” 

“Don’t,” Alec says. “You tried to _move_ to Edom for us, so you don’t get to say anything.”

Magnus is quiet. “I wasn’t going to. Desperation makes people do dangerous things.”

Alec watches him carefully. There’s a story there, he can tell, but there’s an unfamiliar look on Magnus’ face. Maybe Camille, Alec thinks; he knows she didn’t exactly bring out the best in him. Maybe George, maybe someone else entirely. It’s Magnus’ story, though, and he’ll tell Alec when he’s ready.

But instead, he pulls Alec’s hand in his and says, “Myself included.”

“Okay,” Alec says slowly, because the way Magnus is looking at him – it’s piercing. “Did I do something?”

“I tried to erase my memories of you,” Magnus tells him abruptly, which is the last thing Alec expected to hear. 

“What?”

“After the deal,” Magnus explains. “I couldn’t stop seeing you, replaying memories, seeing flashes of my life with you.”

Alec isn’t sure what to say. “I don’t understand,” he says finally. “Is that something you do? Just get rid of memories you don’t want anymore?”

“No,” he answers, gripping Alec’s hand a little tighter. “Never. But you were different. I knew I would never get over you, over us.”

Alec is genuinely speechless. He searches Magnus’s face but eventually has to break his gaze. _Oh god,_ he thinks, feeling nauseous.

Because Alec sees what that future would have meant for himself.

He sees himself walking into a club, seeing Magnus surrounded by attractive men and women, _flirting_ with them while Alec watched, the perfect picture of the ostentatious lothario he might still be if he hadn’t met Alec.

He sees himself walking into the institute on Clave business, interrupting a meeting with some Shadowhunters and the warlock they brought in for consultation; sees Magnus’ inability to recognize the man that could have been his husband if the world had worked out the way Alec wanted it to; sees Magnus treating him like a complete stranger.

He sees himself coming face-to-face with Magnus somewhere, Magnus saying, “ _I don’t think we’ve been formally introduced_ ,” and shamelessly flirting with Alec; sees Magnus subjecting Alec to the anguish of having to relive that moment and all of the moments that came after it.

Alec can’t imagine how he would have handled any of the scenarios, if he would have been able to at all.

“You can’t –” Alec starts, voice cracking.

“Alexander,” Magnus says, voice placating and gentle.

He meets Magnus’ eyes again and he can only imagine the panic Magnus sees in them. “Promiseme you’d never do that to me.”

“Of course,” Magnus says, voice quiet but impassioned. It’s firm and forceful.

Alec feels the nausea slowly begin to abate because Magnus would never lie to him, not ever.

“I love you,” he tells Alec.

Alec can hear the apprehension in his voice so he immediately says, “I love you, too.”

The promise Magnus makes, the intensity behind it, it should be a sign to Alec, but he’s too panicked to notice it.

+

It’s supposed to be a lazy, easy Sunday, but Alec wakes up to an empty bed, and he _hates_ these mornings. He throws on some sweatpants but forgoes a t-shirt (because if anything can lure Magnus back to bad, a half-naked Alec will do it) and pads across the apartment to find a robed Magnus sitting in a cushioned chair. He’s playing with his ring, deep in thought and staring at the wall. No, not the wall, Alec realizes, but at the memento box he keeps buried on the shelf.

That box used to occasionally pop into Alec’s mind and he’d dwell on it for a bit, but not anymore, not really. After all this time, he’s made peace with it. He knows what they have, knows that Magnus will never love anyone the way he loves Alec. He’ll love again, sure, but never this same way.

He’s not sure when or why that sureness kicked in but maybe it has something to do with the ring on his left hand. Magnus has never been married before and even if he remarries, Alec knows it’ll be a long way away. And he knows he’ll always be the _first_. Magnus was a lot of Alec’s firsts but Alec gets this one. No one can ever take that away.

Or maybe it has to do with the things Magnus has done and where he’s gone. God, he moved to Alicante for Alec. He went to _Edom_. As far as Alec can tell, Magnus hasn’t sacrificed himself by portaling to a demonic hellscape for anyone before him. He’s never moved to a city of Nephilim to willingly surround himself with prejudiced Shadowhunters.

Or maybe it’s the things he says. Maybe it’s _I’ve never met anyone like you before_ and _I can’t lose you_.

Or maybe it’s because recently, he’s awoken to Magnus watching him sleep, brushing the hair off of Alec’s forehead or tracing one of his runes. 

But it doesn’t really matter why. The box doesn’t glare at him like it used to. Alec will never love anyone else, and Magnus will never love anyone else the way he loves Alec. That’s enough.

Magnus looks down at his own ring, still oblivious to Alec in the doorway, and Alec thinks, _Oh_. He always assumed it would be that omamori charm in the box because Magnus is hardly ever without it. But maybe, he realizes, it’ll be the ring.

Or maybe, he thinks with a smile, he gets two. Maybe Alec gets two items in that box.

It’s then that Magnus looks up and meets Alec’s eyes. He’s not sure what he expects to see on Magnus’ face, but it’s definitely not a smile so bright that his eyes crinkle. Magnus isn’t shy with his smiles, but Alec doesn’t see one like _that_ very often.

Alec is briefly taken aback. Magnus is playing with his ring and staring at that box, so he assumed he’d find some kind of melancholy smile or wistful expression – but no. There’s just… happiness. Alec, not for the first time, feels like he’s missing an inside joke that Magnus isn’t sharing with him.

This is why the items in that box don’t bother him, Alec realizes. He wants Magnus to smile like this again after Alec is gone; he doesn’t want Magnus to spend centuries mourning him, alone and isolated and empty. The idea of Magnus never smiling like this ever again, it makes Alec’s stomach drop.

“I know what you’re thinking,” Magnus says finally.

Alec gives him a crooked smile. “Good morning to you, too.” He walks over to Magnus’ chair and leans down to kiss his cheek. “And I bet you don’t.”

But Magnus is still just smiling, watching him. It’s almost unnerving.

“I’m fine, I promise.”

But apparently, that’s _exactly_ what Magnus thought Alec was thinking, because he just makes a humming noise and stands to push himself into Alec’s personal bubble. 

Alec does not complain.

Instead he rests his hands on Magnus’ waist, who’s already reaching up to tangle his fingers into the hair at the base of Alec’s neck. 

_This_ is how Sunday mornings are supposed to start.

“I have something to do in New York today,” Magnus tells him.

“Oh?” Alec says, ignoring him in favor of leaning down for another kiss, this one with a little more intent.

“Yes,” Magnus murmurs, so close that Alec can feel his smile.

“Right now?” he asks, starting to walk backwards and tugging Magnus with him.

Magnus tries to keep pace, stumbling and laughing between kisses. “I’ll reschedule.”

He pulls back suddenly to stare at Alec and _god_ the way he looks at him, sometimes it makes Alec wonder if time has stopped. He spent years without anyone looking at him, but Magnus makes him feel like none of that matters. 

“I’d never be able to get over you,” Magnus says out of nowhere, as if he’s replying to something Alec never said.

Alec is struggling to follow the conversation because he thought this was going a completely different direction.

“What’s that supposed to –” he starts, but Magnus cuts him off with another kiss. Instead of just allowing himself to be pulled, Magnus is now nudging Alec backwards and thankfully, this _is_ going in the direction Alec thought.

The confession settles uncomfortably in the back of Alec’s mind, and he tells himself he’ll think about it later. It’s the first sign Alec fully notices, but at the moment his priorities lie elsewhere and he’s too preoccupied to ask.

*

3\. And what happens after all of that:

*

Alec can feel himself drifting back to sleep, even though it’s definitely late morning. He’s got nothing to do or anywhere to be, he’s comfortably warm under the blankets, and he just spent an intense forty-five minutes in bed with Magnus. It’s shaping up to be a great day. Before he falls asleep, though, he feels Magnus shift and untangle himself from under the arm that Alec draped over him.

“Magnus,” he groans, a little exasperated and a lot disappointed. “Come on.”

He peeks his eyes open to see Magnus getting dressed. “I have to be somewhere,” he reminds him.

“And you said you’d reschedule.”

If he wasn’t naked under the covers, Alec might flush under the intense look Magnus gives him, like Alec is the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. 

Magnus doesn’t say anything, just leans down to kiss Alec’s cheek. Alec tilts his head, though, and manages to give him a proper goodbye.

“I love you, Alexander,” Magnus says softly, something wistful in his voice.

Alec groans again and buries his head in the pillow. It’s not until several hours later that he realizes he forgot to say it back.

+

Magnus isn’t home by dinner time and for some reason, it feels… wrong. It’s almost like Alec can sense it. It’s nothing like the parabatai bond, like the steady hum of Jace’s feelings whenever he’s tense, or like the pain in his wrist when Jace gets his ass kicked by Izzy in the training room.

With this, there’s just a sense of wrongness. There’s no logic behind it, no magic or science that would explain it, so Alec tries to ignore the feeling.

By late evening, he doesn’t care about the lack of logic, and he’s portaling to the institute.

The first person he sees, thankfully, is Izzy.

“Is Magnus here?” he asks by way of a _hello_.

She looks taken aback for a moment, then says, “Should he be?”

Alec doesn’t answer, trying to keep up with his racing brain.

“Are you okay, Alec?” she asks, looking concerned

“Fine,” he answers, voice tight. He’s not about to have a breakdown in the middle of the institute; besides, he has to start a thorough walkthrough because he doesn’t know where else to start. _Underhill_ , his brain finally supplies.

He heads towards the ops room, passing Simon on the way.

“Hey, are you okay?” he hears Simon ask but Alec briskly walks past him. He doesn’t have the patience to acknowledge him, let alone answer him. Plus, he can see Underhill by the stairs, and he’s starting to feel more and more unsettled, unable to ignore the growing feeling of _wrongness_.

“Underhill, hey,” he says, voice steady. “Have you seen Magnus?”

“Sir?” he asks, looking up.

Alec’s not ‘sir,’ hasn’t been in a long time, but he doesn’t have time to correct him. “Is Lorenzo back from –,” Alec starts, but doesn’t know how to finish. Magnus said ‘ _somewhere,’_ didn’t offer anything else; what the hell does _somewhere_ mean. “Did he go on some kind of – consultation or something?”

Underhill gives him a slightly disconcerted look. “Not that I’m aware of.” He pauses. “Are you okay, sir?”

Alec waves him off and says, “Fine.” The stream of everyone questioning _are you okay_ is starting to unnerve him because he’s in the middle of the institute, the place Alec always found it easiest to be closed off, professional, distant. He saves everything else for Magnus and _where the hell is he_.

He’s heading back to the portal, no idea what he’s supposed to do next, when he runs into Jace.

“Don’t ask me if I’m okay,” Alec grits out, putting up his hands to stop whatever he’s about to say.

“I wasn’t going to,” Jace says, eyebrows raised. “I haven’t been able to concentrate for an hour, not when you’re on edge like this.”

“I can’t find Magnus,” Alec explains; he can apologize later for not tamping down everything he usually subdues.

“Can’t find him?”

“Not answering his cell, hasn’t been home in hours,” Alec tells him.

“Okay,” Jace says, voice calm. “Well, let’s find him then.” He pauses and then: “Alec, he’s okay.”

Alec shakes his head with conviction. “He’s not,” he says simply, not sure how to explain the _wrongness_.

“Okay,” Jace says again. “Catarina didn’t know anything?”

 _Catarina_ , Alec thinks. _How could you not think of that?_

Alec whips out his phone to call her, and she answers on the second ring. “Is Magnus with you?” he says immediately.

He’s not, and she doesn’t know where he is, “ _not specifically_ ,” and she’s at the institute within minutes.

“How long has he been gone?” Catarina asks Alec as soon as she sees him.

“I don’t know, since eleven maybe?” he answers, nerves shot.

She watches him carefully and says, “It’s not unheard of that these spells take hours, days even.”

“Spell?” he asks. He’s missing something and he hates the feeling, being an outsider.

“ _Anima arbitrium_ ,” she says matter-of-factly, like Alec is supposed to understand. She’s still watching him carefully. “He told you about it, right?”

“About what?” Alec asks. 

She looks immediately concerned.

“Catarina, what’s going on?” he asks. He feels like he’s spiraling, and he’s vaguely aware of Izzy and Jace standing behind him but keeping their distance.

“I thought he’d talk about it with you, I assumed –” she starts. “It’s a dangerous spell and I thought he’d tell you.”

He’s shaking his head because he’s not following _anything_. “Catarina, _please,_ just tell me what’s happening.”

“It separates his magic from his immortality,” she says quietly. “Magnus has been looking for a way to become mortal. I’m so sorry, I thought you knew.”

Alec is silent and he’s vaguely aware of taking a few steps backwards.

“I thought you _knew_ ,” she repeats, looking guilty. 

Dozens of questions are going off rapid-fire in his head but all that comes out is a ragged, “What?”

She’s shaking her head looking so sad, so apologetic. 

“Alec,” he hears from behind him, maybe Izzy. “We’ll find him.”

+

The next hour is a complete blur and Alec isn’t totally convinced he’s not hallucinating. He’s following Catarina around the entire fucking city while she does some complicated tracking spell and he’s faintly aware of the other three alongside him, all quiet, even Simon _thank god_.

And then they’re at the edge of the woods and Magnus is propped up against a tree –

 _there’s blood god his skin is pale what the fuck is in that bowl god so much blood that’s cranberry that’s sage what the fuck does he use those for again oh god he’s breathing he’s still warm cranberry cloves sage hemlock shit I can’t remember what he uses those for think think protect you from all else what the fuck did you do magnus oh god please be okay why are you shaking don’t leave me here don’t don’t_ –

He hears, “Alec! Breathe!”, pulling him from his panicked breakdown and oh, it’s Alec shaking, not Magnus. He thinks he can see Jace bracing himself against a tree trunk, white-knuckled and struggling to remain upright, but Alec can’t –

Then Catarina is standing over him – _them_ , because apparently Alec pulled Magnus into his arms, his lap, his chest – and there’s magic coming out of her fingers. Izzy is saying something to him, something about letting him go so Catarina can help but whatever she sees in Alec’s eyes silences her and she takes a step away. Suddenly, Alec feels the fingers in his hand tighten and his eyes fly down to Magnus’ and _he’s awake_.

“Magnus, oh god –”

“Alexander,” Magnus says, words rushing out. “You’re okay, you’re here, you’re still here,” he continues, words mumbled and almost inaudible. With effort, his other hand reaches up to cup Alec’s face, and his fingers are still gripping Alec’s hand, tighter and tighter until it hurts. Alec has never seen him like this, panicked, desperate, _feral_. “Don’t go, Alec; stay here, stay with me.”

Alec’s eyes are wide. “I’m not going anywhere, I’m here.”

“Alec,” Catarina says urgently, “we need to get him to the hospital.”

“Yeah, okay,” he says, eyes not leaving Magnus’.

“You need to let him go, just for a minute –”

Alec doesn’t look up. “I have him; I’ll come with –”

“Alec,” she interrupts, sounding even more insistent. 

“I have him,” Alec says forcefully, finally meeting her eyes. She stares at him for a brief moment before giving in. She creates a portal to the institute, and Alec carries Magnus through, keeping Magnus’ body pressed possessively against his own until he’s forced to lie him down on the hospital bed.

Magnus still doesn’t let go.

*

4\. And what happened at the same time:

*

The first clue is the slight red blur around the edges of everything he sees. Magnus watches scenes unfold before him, sliding in and out of focus, some slowly and some quickly. He’s surprised to _feel_ things. He’s watching the scenes, not living them, but he’s still able to _feel_ them. When Magnus watches a future version of himself stand on a balcony over a beach, he can smell the air and feel the sun and hear the waves until the image fades out, replaced by another.

The second clue that the spell is working is that Alec is nowhere to be found.

 _This is it_ , Magnus thinks. _It’s beginning_.

He sees the Magnus from a handful of years ago, the Magnus he was when he met a young Shadowhunter for the first time. This time, however, there’s no _I don’t think we’ve been formally introduced_ or a lovely stuttering of _uh we should really you know probably_. Magnus remembers listening to that beautiful stammering man and knowing, despite having no reason to back it up, that this was _the_ someone that would be the most important someone he ever met.

There is no meeting in a club, though, no one saving his life with an arrow. Instead, it’s just Magnus: rich, extravagant, promiscuous. And as he watches, he feels… nothing. The overwhelming infatuation, the excitement he felt that night, it’s replaced with nothing. He’s not sad or lonely or happy. Just indifferent.

In the brief moments that follow, Magnus feels frustration, anger, resignation. Relations between the Clave and the Downworlders are clearly unbearable because there are no idealistic Shadowhunters trying to promote unity.

Magnus watches moments from his life in Paris in the two decades that follow. He’s apparently experimenting with a side-parted, up-swept hairstyle, which admittedly, looks fantastic. The years in Paris seem to pass quickly, and there’s a night where he sleeps with both a Michelle _and_ a Michel, though not at the same time. Despite everything he sees, the lingering feeling is simple boredom. He watches himself attend parties and have countless, _countless_ flings, but he’s mostly just bored.

He’s then swept to LA, where he’s the High Warlock for a few years. The sun and sand don’t seem to interest him, and the warlock he dates for two years appears to be more out of comfort than love. There’s a sense of frustration that accompanies the scenes. _Is there nothing more than this?_ , he senses the High Warlock of LA feeling.

It’s followed by thirteen years in Norway. There’s a consuming loneliness; he feels it in his head and his heart and down to his bones, spending nights ( _years_ ) drinking alone.

There are men and women that come and go, yes. There are long relationships and flings and deep friendships. There are warlocks, Seelies, even a few mundanes. 

There is never a Shadowhunter.

Magnus watches his hair change, his wardrobe, his home, his relationships. But not once does he feel a contentment, a sense of belonging.

Without Alexander, he never understands _home._

Magnus feels the corners of his mouth fight a smile. The Queen will not get what she came for today. 

+

He’s not sure how much time passes, but Magnus feels the change as much as he sees it. The scenes before him no longer have a faint red tint around them but instead a pale blue. Magnus’ feelings have faded into Alec’s but he realizes they’re thoughts more than feelings.

And all Magnus can feel, hear, think, is _isolation_. It’s all around him.

Izzy, hopelessly fighting for a relationship with her brother.

Jace, resigned to a strained relationship with the person who shares his soul.

Maryse, divorced and still ‘ _mother_ ,’ never ‘ _mom_.’

Lydia, married to a friend, not a man she could fall in love with.

And Alec, so recklessly, desperately _alone_.

Magnus can hardly breathe under the stifling, pervasive loneliness.

Scenes fade in and out so quickly that Magnus can hardly focus. The same scenes over and over, consistent throughout the years. Alec ages but the scenes essentially stay the same. 

There are moments with his sister who silently begs for some connection as she shares stories of her love life and her heartaches with her brother. Alec listens attentively and shows genuine concern but shares nothing in return.

Alec’s relationship with Lydia seems friendly, Magnus is relieved to see. Formal, but cordial. She’s practical, smart, and just as lonely as Magnus knew she’d be.

The scenes with Jace are the most painful of all. They fade in and out slower than the rest, and Magnus can hear Alec’s thoughts painfully clear. Alec has finally figured out how to separate the love he feels for Jace from what being _in love_ would feel like, but somehow, it’s pushed them even further apart. Alec has dulled the parabatai bond beyond recognition; it’s not something to rely on and trust, but instead something to hide from. He can keep everyone in his life at a distance, but Alec has to truly put effort into keeping Jace there.

Magnus knows that his Alec mutes what emotions – and how much of them – he lets Jace feel. When Alec can’t control the force and intensity behind what he feels, Jace struggles under the weight of it, but this version of Alec never even gives Jace the chance to try.

Alec has very little to share with his loved ones, Magnus observes, because he seldom leaves the institute unless it’s for a purpose, a mission. He’s repressed, sharp, and brittle. Izzy, Lydia, his parabatai, his mother, they all _know_ about him, of course they do, but Alec never speaks of it. There is no one that fights for him, warlock or otherwise. No one fights to love him and to be loved in return, so there is no one for Alec to let in, no reason to let down his walls.

It hard to see, almost unbearable, but Magnus has to watch it play out all the same.

Without Magnus, Alexander never understands _free_.

The Queen will still not get what she came for, but this time Magnus can’t find it in him to smile.

+

Everything turns gray around the edges, and though the scenes of Alec’s loneliness have faded, Magnus can’t find it in him to feel relieved. This is the third and final act, the nightmare Magnus is here to prevent. Alec won’t be found in these scenes, which is entirely the point.

Magnus sees himself, looking much the same as he does now, alone in a cemetery. It’s raining.

He’s alone in their apartment. ( _His_ apartment, now.)

He’s alone in their bed. ( _His_ bed, now.)

Alone alone alone, always alone.

There are no thoughts to hear in these scenes, no emotions to feel. Magnus is truly empty and blank, utterly indifferent to the world.

Then the scenes stop fading in and out. Magnus stops seeing them and instead starts experiencing them. He’s no longer on the sidelines; he now endures every second.

The seconds become days become years become centuries. He can’t bear it, doesn’t have enough strength to keep going, _why did he think he could ever get past him_ – 

“…please, Magnus, _please_ ,” he hears distantly. It’s not the first time he’s heard Alec’s voice as clearly as if he was standing next to him, but it never hurts any less.

But then he feels a hand in his own, breath on his cheek, roots and leaves below him. He struggles to open his eyes.

“Magnus, oh god –” the man above him says, and god he looks so much like –

“Alexander,” he says on a breath, without meaning to. And those eyes, that face, it seems so _real_ this time. Magnus tries to fight it off because each time he remembers _he’s gone he’s gone_ , it’s as painful as the time before, but this time, his cloudy brain starts to piece things back together. The Queen, the spell, his choice. “You’re okay, you’re here, you’re still here,” Magnus realizes. He squeezes Alec’s hand, trying to prove he’s real. “Don’t go, Alec; stay here, stay with me,” he can hear himself pleading.

Alec looks wild, panicked, _feral_. “I’m not going anywhere; I’m here.”

Magnus remembers holding on to Alec, possessively and fiercely, but nothing else.

*

5\. And then after that:

*

For three days, Alec is still too terrified to be angry. He sits by Magnus’ hospital bed, working while Magnus sleeps. On the fourth day, they talk.

“What the hell, Magnus,” he says, trying to keep the frustration out of his voice. He wants to enjoy the relief that comes with his husband _still being alive,_ but he’s having a hard time blocking out the anger that comes with his husband _hiding so much shit_.

Magnus tilts his head to the side to watch Alec, but he doesn’t say anything.

“Magnus, you could have _died_. What were you thinking?”

“I’m fine, Alexander,” he says softly, and Alec can barely stand hearing how weak and frail he sounds.

Alec scrubs a hand over his face. “I just –”

“I knew I’d be okay; I promise.”

“You knew?” Alec says, eyebrows raised. “Really? Because when we found you, you were bleeding out.” It’s not entirely true, and Magnus knows it, because most of the blood wasn’t even Magnus’.

“Alexander –”

“No,” Alec says, interrupting him because the way Magnus is watching him, the small smile he’s trying to give, “You don’t get to be flirty and charming right now. You get to lie here in a stiff hospital gown and explain everything to me.”

Magnus lets out a small, resigned sigh. “It was just a spell.”

Alec tries not to roll his eyes, reminding himself that he needs to be grateful Magnus is even alive, but he’s getting impatient. “Clearly.”

“There were some steps I won’t bore you with but in the end, I only had to endure some – dreams, if you will, and then the choice was mine.”

“Dreams,” Alec echoes. “You were alone in the woods, half-dead. That’s not how most people dream.”

“They’re meant to be cruel,” Magnus continues. “The things you see during them are meant to make you regret what you just chose.”

Alec shakes his head. He feels so tired, still so lost. “I don’t understand.”

Magnus pauses to carefully consider his words. “A mortal life to spend with the man I love,” he explains. “That’s what I chose. It required me to see what each of our lives would have been like without each other, in addition to what my future held if I made a different choice.”

When he doesn’t continue, Alec says, “Okay, and?”

“And ideally, I would see that we would have led fulfilling lives without each other. I would see that an immortal life is quite enough. I move on, love again, and remember you fondly as one love among many others. Like I said, it’s meant to be cruel.”

Alec doesn’t realize he’s holding his breath until it comes back out in one exhale. None of this is what he expected, and now he’s terrified to hear the rest of his story. Alec made peace with Magnus’ immortality long ago, but the desperate panic he felt these past few days has made him feel raw and exposed.

“But that’s not what happened,” Magnus says with a small smile, almost shy. “I was restless without you, Alexander. I never found a place to call home, a person that made me _feel_ home.”

Alec swallows, not sure what to say.

“And at the risk of sounding slightly self-important,” he continues, his smile more teasing, “you weren’t well-adjusted either.”

Alec gives him an unimpressed look and raises his eyebrows because _obviously_. But neither of those are surprising; that’s not the punchline he’s been waiting to hear. “And the last part?” he asks, still not sure he wants to know what Magnus saw.

Magnus smile fades, and he gives Alec that look of – he doesn’t know what else to call it but _reverence_. “It was awful,” he says, but Alec thinks he’s saying it more to himself than Alec. He looks… lost.

Alec still has so many things to ask, to say. He wants to know how Magnus feels, wants to hear why he hid this from him, but he can’t bring himself to make Magnus relive everything all over again while still recovering in a hospital just so that he can ask _what now._

*

1 (again). Not quite the end:

*

So they discuss it while lying in their bed. Magnus apologizes for what he didn’t say but not for what he chose to do. Alec tries to stop thinking _grow old together, grow old together_.

*

6\. And then at the very end:

*

In the days and weeks that follow what happened, Alec tries to dampen the unadulterated _happiness_ that courses through him; it rests in his mind, his heart, down to his soul. He works at subduing it because he wants to be ready at a moment’s notice to switch gears, to have enough self-awareness to know when Magnus falls under the gravity of what he just did. Alec wants to be selfish until the second he can’t be.

It’s not until the night Magnus catches him flipping through one of the old, tattered spell books strewn throughout the apartment that Alec starts to feel like it’s okay to be happy, okay to embrace the anticipation coursing through his veins all of the time. He’s not explicitly looking for a spell or a potion that could fix what Magnus did, but he’s not _not_ looking for one either. It would just be nice to know that Alec had a solution to fix it, if Magnus ever needed him to.

Magnus gives him a knowing look as he gently tugs to book out of Alec’s hands. “You won’t find what you’re looking for in there,” he says, not unkindly.

Alec doesn’t want to admit to what he was looking for, but he’s not about to lie about it either, so he stays silent. 

“I know you want to be in control of what you’re feeling, Alexander,” he continues, “but you can’t be in control of what I want.”

It’s not until that moment that Alec feels like he can exhale. He sees, _accepts,_ that Magnus is certain about what he did, that Alec will never see a trace of regret darken the face of the man he loves.

It’s nothing like before. There are none of the signs Magnus broadcasted years ago when he lost his magic, the moments of frenzied intensity as he tried to force countless memories into a single day, mortality clearly weighing on him. And there are none of the signs Magnus has been broadcasting for months now, moments of desperate introspection as he tried to make an irrevocable decision on his own, immortality clearly weighing on him.

Magnus seems _free_.

Instead of looking to the past and _what happened_ , Alec looks to their future and _what comes now_.

*

7\. And what comes now:

* 

It all begins.


End file.
